


It Had To Be You

by eyeslikestarlight, roundandtalented



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Humanstuck, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-04
Updated: 2012-09-04
Packaged: 2017-11-13 13:08:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyeslikestarlight/pseuds/eyeslikestarlight, https://archiveofourown.org/users/roundandtalented/pseuds/roundandtalented
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are plenty of other things you'd rather be doing than working evening shift at the slowest university cafe in existence. But at least the company is sort of bearable, until you remember his stupid hipster glasses and insufferable attitude. ..Well, okay, maybe even then.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Had To Be You

**Author's Note:**

> Team Eridan <3 Sollux of the Homestuck Shipping Olympics 2012 proudly presents our final Collab Round entry! We put a lot of work into this, and it was really fun to do. 
> 
> The writing was done by myself, Mandee [robotwwizard on tumblr] and Caitlin [rawrimamidget], and the art was done by Mandee, Rachel [lovethighholsters on tumblr], Eva [evapples on tumblr], and Caitlin.
> 
> We hope you enjoy! The theme for this round was aberration: a break in the pattern or routine.

Your name is Sollux Captor, and there’s only one thing that makes work even remotely bearable. Well, two, if you count the occasional oversized cup of coffee that you reward yourself with on harder days.

College is expensive as hell, even with your substantial scholarship. Your parents are making you pay for most of it, so your job at the little campus coffee house is a definite necessity. The continuous access to free coffee made it sound pretty damn appealing, though it never crossed your mind that the place would be so damn boring most of the time. You’d much prefer to be doing other things Monday through Thursday from 6 to 9 PM and Sundays from 12 to 4, but at least the company isn’t so bad. You guess.

His name is Eridan, and he’s there every single day without fail. He annoys the fuck out of you more often than not, but you’ll begrudgingly admit that if he wasn’t there, you’d be banging your head against the wall out of sheer boredom and frustration.

The coffee house doesn’t get very many customers during your shift, and you’re pretty sure he accounts for most of your sales with his daily hot chocolate, extra milk, and don’t forget the whipped cream you twat.

When you started, he was just a lone figure in the corner with his stupid macbook pro, but he gradually migrated up towards the counter, and now he sits on the same stool every day, just to the left of the cash register.

Some days his laptop is replaced by a sketchbook or a notebook, and you find him furiously scribbling away. He never lets you see what he’s working on, which drives you crazy.

Pretty much everything he does drives you crazy.

“So, what’ll it be today, ED?”

He turns his gaze on you from his laptop screen and gives you a look like you’re the stupidest creature he’s ever encountered. “Is that a serious fuckin’ question, Sol?”

You chuckle and turn around to make his precious hot chocolate exactly the way he likes it, knowing from experience that he _will_ demand a new one if you make it wrong. “Just checking, jeez. No need to be rude about it.”

“Me? Rude?” he scoffs as he pulls out his wallet. “Please. I’m the very picture a’ grace an’ politeness.”

You look over your shoulder at him in disbelief, and he’s got the most innocent expression on his face. “If this is your idea of grace and politeness, then I desperately pray I never have to witness your bad side,” you retort.

He smiles sweetly. “Good thing I don’t have a bad side, then.”

Once a large dollop of whipped cream has been added, you place his mug in front of him and hold your hand out for the cash. He hands you a crisp 50 dollar bill, and you can’t stop your eyes from rolling.

“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?” you grumble as you make change.

His smile never fades as he accepts the money and puts it away. “I’m your favorite customer, Sol.”

“You’re my only customer, dumbass.”

“Ah, so you don’t deny it!”

You flip him off and turn your attention to the stereo system. The benefits of being the only employee include doing pretty much whatever the fuck you want, and that means you can play any music you please. Of course, you’re still subjected to the commentary from the peanut gallery.

“Wow, this song is absolute shit.”

“You’re absolute shit,” you bite back without skipping a beat.

“Ouch. Do you have ice behind that counter? Cause I’m gonna be needin’ some for that totally sick burn.”

“I’m just speaking the truth,” you shrug, leaning up against the counter, your chin in your hand.

He rolls his eyes at you and stirs absently at his drink. “Seriously, though. You got the worst taste in music I’ve ever experienced. It’s painful.”

“Like your emo indie shit is any better?” you snort.

“It’s not ‘emo indie shit’,” he protests indignantly. “And yeah, it fuckin’ is. I’m tellin’ you, just let me plug my phone into that thing, and I’ll show you what quality music sounds like.”

You give him a look that’s one part annoyance and two parts amusement, and you can tell he’s bothered that you’re not taking his suggestion seriously.

“I’d sooner double my shifts than be subjected to that,” you deadpan, still fixing him with a look.

He sniffs haughtily and takes a long sip of hot chocolate. “Whatever, Sol. You wouldn’t understand culture if it smacked you upside the head.” He returns his attention to his screen, tapping away at something.

The superior air of his words is completely undercut by the frothy line of whipped cream adorning his upper lip. You hold back a snicker and decide not to tell him about it.

“Somethin’ funny?” he frowns, looking up at you. Apparently, you didn’t do a very good job of holding back that snicker.

“No, nothing at all,” you assure him, trying to mask your amusement by putting your hand over your mouth. You can’t help but find the baffled expression on his face mixed with the whipped cream mustache unbearably cute. This thought is, of course, totally absurd, and it’s quickly wiped away as you clutch your mouth in a fruitless attempt to stop the laughter that’s currently bubbling out of it.

He seems to take this as a cue and swipes the back of his hand over his lips, effectively erasing the white trail, and his cheeks flush just slightly. “Thanks for lettin’ me know,” he grumbles, clearly embarrassed.

“Anytime, ED,” you grin, resisting the urge to reach out and mockingly pinch his cheeks. You’re not sure how kindly he’d take to that.

With a humph, he becomes quickly engulfed in his computer, and you’re distracted by another student that comes up to the counter, ordering a cup of soup. It takes half a minute to ladle pre-made broth into a cup, and you work on autopilot, thinking absently of the anthropology paper you need to start working on tonight. 

Distracted by your thoughts, you forget to tell the kid how much he owes. As he opens his mouth to ask, Eridan cuts in without even looking up—“$3.50.”

You give him a semi-impressed look as you accept the cash from the impatient-looking guy. “What, did you memorize the menu?”

He shrugs, eyes still glued to his screen. “I’m here often enough, aren’t I? Maybe your brain is too tiny to remember it all, but I got a pretty fantastic memory.”

Of course he had to slip the insult in there. You roll your eyes and let it roll right off as he finally looks up to shoot half a smirk at you. The kid with the soup hands you three singles and two quarters, and you’re glad for the exact change, especially since you’re hardly paying any attention to him.

"A fantastic memory, hmm? Like that time you forgot the password to your macbook, and _I_ was the one who remembered it and got you back in?" you smirk in return as you put the cash in the register. The guy takes his soup and goes, and it’s just the two of you again. 

The expression on his lips fades into a scowl. “You totally changed it on me when I wasn’t lookin’, you ass.”

“Did not, shithead, you just forgot. Where would you be without me?”

“A thousand times less irritated, that’s for sure,” he complains, going back to typing. You lean over the counter and attempt to peer over the screen at what he’s working on, but his scowl deepens and he tilts the screen down so you can’t see.

“What the hell are you doing that’s so damn secretive, anyway?” you wonder, giving him an amused look.

“None a’ your damn business, that’s what,” he answers rather predictably. Jeez, what a pain.

Not like you really care, anyway. You’re just curious, and bored.

“Whatever,” you shrug, and start wiping down some mugs. Honestly, they probably don’t need to be cleaned, but you have literally nothing else to do right now other than talk to prince douchebag over there, and you have to do _something._

The only sound for awhile other than the low tones of your music is the tapping of Eridan’s typing, and it’s not an uncomfortable silence, but after wiping the mugs for what seems like the 17th time, you speak out of sheer boredom.

“So what is it that brings you in here so often?” you inquire, leaning on your elbows and looking over at him.

Eridan shrugs and looks up at you. “My roommate is a real shit, and the common room is gross. It’s nice and quiet here, and I can get a semi-decent drink while I’m at it.

You fix him with a stern look. “My hot chocolate is _far_ better than ‘semi-decent’.”

He looks contemplative for a second, then makes a face and shakes his head. “Nope. I’d give it a ‘mediocre’ at best.”

“Mediocre? Please. More like, ‘most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted’.”

“More like, ‘I would pay substantial sums a’ money to have another employee working this shift so I don’t have to drink liquid shit’.”

Ha. You tsk at him and smile knowingly. “Don’t give me that, ED. I can see right through you. The real reason you come here so often is because you just _love_ spending time with me.”

It’s his turn to shoot you a look, and he gives you a sarcastic laugh. “In your dreams, Sol.”

You may have imagined it, but you could’ve sworn there was a slight hesitation before he reacted that way.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your name is Eridan Ampora, and you really like your routine.

What isn't there to like? The atmosphere at the campus coffee shop is a lovely place to get your work done. And though you'd never admit it, the company isn't so bad either when he’s not being a self satisfied prick.

Arguing with Sollux can be entertaining at least, and if you’re being honest with yourself, you don't find him too hard on the eyes either.

No, there’s nothing you would change about this routine. You certainly never entertain ideas of seeing the sassy barista outside his workplace. Not too often, anyway.

But that’s just a silly little fantasy and you push it out of your mind as you move your pencil loosely across the page of your sketch book, your hot chocolate sitting a good distance off to the side.

"Come on ED, let's see the artistic masterpiece," Sollux grins, trying to lean over the counter and peak at your work. You shoot him an affronted look, snatching the book away and covering it with your arm.

"Back off Sol. Uneducated eyes like yours wouldn't be able to appreciate the refined and complex work I produce, so don't even bother lookin'."

He rolls his eyes, but gives you your space as he steps back to grab a cloth. "Like you're really creating masterpieces in that tiny ass book, give me a break."

"Fuck off asshole, what do you even know about art? Masterpieces don't require a lot a fancy materials, they can come outta anythin'," you huff, continuing to sketch while constantly casting suspicious glances back towards Sollux in case he gets the notion to try and peak again.

"Maybe, but I don't think that's why you're hiding what's in there."

"I ain't _hidin’_ anythin'," you protest, slamming the book shut out of sheer irritation. "It's just private and none a’ your business, quite frankly."

"Are you drawing porn in there, ED?" He jokes, leaning forward on the counter and giving you that infuriating grin of his. You try to ignore the way your stomach flips at the sight.

"W-what kinda stupid fuckin' question is that?" you sneer, trying not to appear as frazzled as you actually are. "That ain't what I'm... why are you even askin' me that? What the fuck, Sol?"

He shrugs, still smirking but looking very calm and casual. "I just think it'd be pretty hilarious is all. What else could you be so embarrassed about?"

"We've been over this, stupid. I'm not embarrassed." It was like talking to a brick wall sometimes. Honestly, you’re not sure how you even put up with it. “And I see what you’re doin’ here! You’re tryin’ to trick me into showin’ you what I’ve been drawin’ but it ain’t gonna work, so quit tryin’ to stick your nose where it don’t belong.”

“Heh, right. Like I give that much of a shit about all the little doodles you scribble in there,” he snickers and turns away, wiping down a counter next to him that was already clean.

“They’re sketches, not doodles,” you correct, fiddling with the corner cover of your sketchbook. “Honestly Sol, get it right.”

“Whatever, I still don't get what the big deal is. If it's not some secret collection of kinky drawings, why can't I see it?"

You sigh, looking Sollux straight in the eye to try and convey how serious you are about this. It’s a pretty bad decision, because Sollux's eyes are really captivating and distracting. "Alright, pay attention, cause I'm not goin' to bother sayin' this again. A sketchbook ain't just a collection a drawins ok? It's like a journal. All the artist's inner workings of the mind and soul are captured on the pages. It's very personal."

Sollux just looks amused, leaning back against one of the counters with his arms crossed as he surveys you. "So you're basically saying I can't look at your artwork because it's like I'm reading your diary?"

Try as you might to stop it, you can feel the tips of your ears heat up as you fix Sollux with another glare. "Yeah. It's like you're lookin' at my journal, that's what I'm sayin'."

Sollux groaned and looked to the door like that would make a customer magically appear, but they remained alone in the cafe. "Okay, whatever. Like I said, I don't really give that much of a shit, so..."

“ _Fine_ , I’ll show you _one page_ ," you interrupt him, rolling your eyes over dramatically just in case he didn't understand how annoying he could be. "Only one. And only cause I'm sick an’ tired a’ your bitchin'." You prop your sketch book up so he can't see while you're flipping through it and looking for the page you want.

You hesitate a moment once you find it, unsure about your decision, but it's your favorite piece in this book so far and you'd rather show your best work if he has to see one. Tentatively, you set it down, flipping the book over so he can see the image right side up.

It's a drawing of him. He's leaning against a counter, his posture relaxed like usual. It was done on a day much like this, when the cafe was particularly dead. He scoots closer and peers at the drawing with interest, his mismatched eyes wide behind his glasses. You can't help but chew on your lower lip nervously, scrutinizing every bit of his reaction.

He makes some sort of noise in the back of his throat and you can't contain yourself any longer. "What? What the fuck is that sound supposed to mean? I mean yeah, it's you but you make a decent model ok? It's not like you do much at this job besides stand around, it's easy to get a good view."

"Calm down princess, it's not that." Sollux grinned, his eyes still glued to the picture as he rested his elbows on the counter. "I just expected your art to be a lot worse, is all."

"What?" You gape at him, offended he would think such a thing. "What the fuck, Sol? What business do you have makin' assumptions about the quality of my work? And what would even give you that impression?"

"Well, you'd never let me see it! What did you expect me to think?" He snickers, still looking thoroughly amused. It irritates the hell out of you.

"Can I keep it?" He suddenly asks, and okay, maybe now you aren’t so irritated because apparently he likes your work enough to want to own it.

"Are you gonna pay me for it?" You sniff, confidence suddenly returning full force. He just laughs.

"I'm the model here! I shouldn't have to pay for it, you ass."

You don’t really want to part with it, because you like it a lot too, but you’re also flattered he asked for it. So you slowly tear the page out of your sketch book. "You should have to pay for it regardless, but luckily for you I'm feelin' generous today, so here you go."

"Thanks, ED." He smiles as you hand it to him, and you can't ignore the way your chest hitches at the sight.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your name is Sollux Captor and you have been waiting all evening for the person who just sat down in your place of work. He’s annoying, opinionated, a bit stuck up, and maybe a really good way to pass time during the evening shift. Okay, he can totally be enjoyable if he’s not being a douche, but it’s taken some getting used to. 

Eridan Ampora has a collection of scarves. You’ve come to assume this because you’ve recently noticed that he wears a different one every day. Most of them are horrendously ugly, but you get the sense he’s quite the fashionista because his outfit still manages to match. Like today for example. He’s wearing the ugliest scarf you’ve ever seen yet somehow, he has a pair of pants that match one of the browns in it perfectly. You don’t consider yourself much of a fashion man, but you can appreciate that Eridan does indeed have a sense of style.

You realise too late that you’ve been staring at him from your place behind the counter for far too long. Eridan sticks his tongue out at you in a playful manner and you’re torn between ignoring him or throwing something at him.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“What are you, twelve?” You decide on the course of action that doesn’t have the possibility of getting you fired and roll your eyes. “I was obviously daydreaming in your general direction. The world doesn’t revolve around you, you know.”

He makes another face at you, one thats a mix between unconvinced and totally smug because he caught you. Stupid prick. He closes his eyes and folds his hands on the countertop as if what ever he has to say is awful important and completely deserving of your focus.

“I’m your only payin’ customer. That means at least your attention should be all on me.” He says it in such a snooty tone that you end up making a ‘pfft’ noise and shaking your head.

You hold out your hand and wriggle your fingers expectantly. “Not yet you aren’t. I have yet to see any cash.”

Eridan scoffs before complying, sliding a bill and some change in your direction. He doesn’t bother to spare you another look as he begins setting up his laptop. No sketchbook today, huh? Maybe he actually has some homework.

You turn around and make his usual order of hot chocolate just the way he likes it--he doesn’t even need to ask anymore, you already know. He smiles a little, just a tiny twitch at you in the corner of his mouth when you set it down next to him. It’s enough thanks, you suppose.

It’s silent aside from Eridan’s typing for a good twenty minutes before the whole situation really starts to bother you. Why hasn’t he taken a break? Why isn’t he talking to you? Why isn’t he teasing you about your lame job and stupid apron?

You can only watch him and the door for so long before you begin fidgeting with the container of sugar packets on the counter. You flick one at him and he startles when it collides with his laptop. Much to your annoyance, he just goes right back to typing, this time with a scowl on his face.

Wow, must be serious shit he’s working on. Even better. You flick a creamer next and it smacks his hand. You get a glare this time and that sure isn’t enough to deter you yet. You will be entertained, damn it. You shift some things around on your countertop and then you are dual wielding creamers like a champ. Pursing your lips together, you take aim and flick.  
This goes a lot less smoothly than expected because upon impact with his mac book, one of them bursts.

“Oh my god, Sol!” He flails and bumps his drink and thats all it takes for his mug of (probably cool by now) hot chocolate to wobble and fall off the edge of the counter. You wince when it shatters against the tile floor.

Oops.

Eridan throws his hands up in the air, exasperated, and starts to grab his bag from the stool next to him.

“That’s it, I’m done! I give up with this fuckin’ assignment! I’ll take a zero!” Oh no no no, he is not doing that. You are not going to be the person that causes him to fail. You’re out there in an instant, not caring that you’re stepping in his spilt drink and smearing it everywhere.

“Eridan, wait, I’m sorry. That was pretty dumb.” He shoots you a glare and you almost back down. “I’ll make you a new hot chocolate and clean this up, alright? I’ll quit pestering you.”  
He groans, and shuffles a few stools over, plopping his bag down next to him.

“Fine. Just. No more creamers.” A lot less struggle from him than expected, but okay. He retrieves his laptop and you almost have to wrestle it from him to wipe the little splash off the back of it. You have to assure him that it will be fine at least three times before you go back behind the counter, taking the broken pieces of mug with you.

You make sure to add a smiley face onto his whipped cream with a bit of chocolate syrup. His new drink is obnoxiously happy looking and you are trying really, really hard to not laugh as you draw it on. You hold your snickers back as you slide it toward his new spot and begin mopping up the mess that is undeniably your fault.

When he starts laughing behind you, you have to admit you’re relieved. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your name is Eridan Ampora and you thought today was going to be like any other day. You have a paper to get done that you’re really not looking forward to, but having your hot chocolate and chatting with Sollux ought to make it less of a drag. It usually does.

However you find yourself stopping short on the way to your regular spot next to the register when you realize the barista behind the counter is not Sollux. Your first instinct is that he must have come down with something and called in sick. 

You curse your luck, but step up to the register anyway. Might as well get a drink while you're here.

"A tall hot chocolate with extra milk, an’ don't go skimpin' on the whipped cream," you say, and you swear the guy behind the counter resists the urge to roll his eyes. Your lip curls in irritation at the sight. It’s not at all endearing when it’s someone else giving you the sass. 

“Two seventy-five,” he drawls, and you can’t help but scowl at him just for having the audacity to not be Sollux. 

You pull out a twenty and hand it to him before asking, "So where's Sol at anyway? He called in sick didn’t he? Bet he’s fakin’ it, the lazy shit.” 

“Who?” The barista asks as he counts out your change. Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes.

“Sollux Captor,” You clarify impatiently before realizing it sounds a bit odd to be interrogating the guy about it and quickly add, “I'm just wonderin' cause he makes a decent drink you know, an’ I ain't sure yet if you're up to the standard."

"Oh. He quit." The employee deadpans before turning around to make your drink.

"Quit?? What? That's impossible!" You can't help but sputter in surprise, feeling utterly betrayed by this revelation. How dare that asshole quit and leave you without his company.

"Uh huh," the new barista mumbles before handing you your hot chocolate. "Have a nice day."

You snatch it away with a huff and stomp out of the shop, your mood thoroughly ruined. You had really liked the routine of coming over here most days and talking to that snarky bastard. But you suppose you should have expected it wouldn't last forever.

You heave a sigh and take a sip of the hot chocolate. It tastes terrible.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your name is Sollux Captor, and you have mixed feelings about quitting your job.

With the new federal grant you just received, it’s no longer necessary to help pay for tuition. Still, you’ve got so much free time now that you don’t know what to do with, and you feel kinda useless just sitting around your dorm.

And as much as you hate to admit it, you really sorta miss your routine. Specifically, one aspect of it.

But hey, no one said that just because you quit your job, it means you’ll never see him again, right? Your school is on the smaller side, and it’s not like the campus is really that big anyway.

In fact, you could just walk into the coffee shop at any time and he’d probably still be sitting right there. You could order your own drink, sit next to him, and have a casual chat, probably an argument or two, maybe peer over at his computer screen or into his sketchbook.

You check your phone: 7 o’clock. Normally, you’d be working now, which means he should be there as well. Nothing’s due tomorrow, you’ve got nothing better to be doing, so you shrug and roll off your bed, stuffing your arms into a coat and your feet into shoes, cause now’s as good a time as any.

The coffee house is barely a two-minute walk from your dorm, but you’re already freezing by the time you push through the door, the little dingly bell above you announcing your presence. You look up as you walk over to the counter, and maybe you can sneak up on him and--

Except when your eyes fall on the counter, you discover that it’s empty. Nothing but a bunch of empty stools, with a bored-looking guy in your old apron leaning against it from the other side. He doesn’t bother to lift his head from where it’s resting in his hand, but he flicks his eyes over to you and sighs.

You approach slowly, feeling thoroughly confused. Eridan is _always_ here. You’ve never seen him miss a day. So where the hell is he?

“You’re the guy that used to work here, right?” your replacement barista asks, finally straightening up as you stop in front of him.

“That’s me,” you nod, still feeling confused and, to be honest, disappointed. “I know how bored you must be now. Sorry.”

He grunts. “You gonna order, or what?”

“Actually, I was looking for someone,” you say, without meaning to say it. You frown to yourself, then figure why not go ahead and ask anyway, since you’ve already started. “Tall, pale guy, blue eyes and dark hair, has a penchant for wearing scarves?”

The guy seems to think for a second. “Hipster glasses and stupid purple highlights?” he asks after a moment. You nod, and suddenly feel strangely possessive, cause only you’re allowed to tease him for being a hipster or having stupid purple hair.

“He showed up last week once. Asked about you, actually. Left pretty quick after that, and hasn’t been here since.” He says this all in a bored tone, like he couldn’t care less. “You’re not gonna order anything, are you?”

You shake your head and mutter a quick, “thanks anyway,” as you turn around and walk out of the shop. Outside, you stuff your hands in your pockets and frown as you think about what the barista said. Eridan asked about you, and when he heard you weren’t coming back, he stopped showing up. Was he...was he actually only there because of you?

And then something slides into place in your head, and you stop walking. You need to find him.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your name is Eridan Ampora, and you’re in a really fuckin’ bad mood.

Your roommate is an enormous shit, and you’re sick of putting up with him. There’s an absurd amount of disgusting slushy snow on the ground, and you hate it. And worst of all, you’re walking to the dining hall alone, where you will proceed to eat dinner alone, and then go back to your room and sit there all night cause it’s not like you have anywhere better to go.

As you approach the building, you hear a shout behind you, but pay it no mind because there’s no way it’s aimed at you. And then you hear it again a moment later, louder and closer this time.

“ED, wait!”

There’s only one person that calls you that. You freeze. Did you hear that right…? You turn around slowly, not daring to get your hopes up until you see him.

Sollux is slouched in front of you, his shoulders heaving as he tries to catch his breath, because apparently he’d chased you down. It’s immensely weird to see him out of the coffee house, in normal clothes, with no counter serving as a buffer between you two. His hair is messy from the wind and his cheeks are tinted red from the cold, and it’s absolutely unfair how cute it is.

“Sol,” you greet him, still feeling a bit baffled. “What’s up?”

Still panting slightly, he says without preamble, “Why did you stop going to the coffee house?”

You frown and cross your arms protectively over your chest. Was he looking for you? “Why did you quit?” you ask in response.

“I asked you first,” he protests, his breathing slowing to normal.

“What’s it matter to you?” you answer defensively, hugging your arms a bit closer. It’s really cold out here. “I dunno, the new guy’s a fuckin’ prick and his hot chocolate sucks.”

“A bigger prick than me?” Sollux grins slightly.

You’re suddenly grateful for the cold, cause you can blame your red-tinted cheeks on that. “You gotta answer my question now,” you deflect.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “I don’t need it anymore. My tuition’s covered now, and I’ve got a nice sum put away in the bank. At this point it’d just be a waste of time.”

Ouch. You shouldn’t take that personally, but you do. “Right. Well if that’s all…” you say, turning to go, but he catches your arm.

“Eridan, wait.” So you stop and look at him. He looks unsure, but he continues. “I used to think you were there every day, for who knows how long. But you weren’t, were you?” 

You realize what he’s getting at, and your stomach starts to sink. 

“I asked the girl who works Fridays and Saturdays, and she said she’s never seen you once. Neither did the guy who does the weekday morning shift.”

You’re really tense now, and you try to subtly pull your arm away, but he tightens his grip on it just slightly, and you can’t really move. “You were only there during my shifts. Why?” He’s staring at you, but it’s not with any sort of annoyance or accusation; it looks more like he’s pleading.

There’s really nothing you can say to fix this. Your mouth opens and no words come out, so you close it again, heart pounding in your chest as your mind races, trying to find an acceptable answer.

But maybe he sees the answer in your eyes, because the next thing you know, he’s pulling you forward by the scarf and pressing his lips to yours, and for a second you panic because _holy shit Sollux is kissing you what do you do_ but then something kicks in and your arms snake around his neck, pulling him closer as you kiss him back with equal enthusiasm.

It only lasts a few seconds, but you’re still out of breath when you break apart because you seem to have forgotten to breathe. He’s looking at you with wide eyes, like maybe he’s questioning what just happened, but when the corners of your mouth turn upwards almost automatically, he can’t help but return the gesture.

Neither one of you really know what to say as you drift apart entirely, your arms falling to your sides as he shoves his hands back into his pockets. But you’re both smiling like fools, and you share a nervous laugh.

“Wow, Sol. That was…somethin’,” you say, for lack of anything better.

He scratches at the back of his head sheepishly. “Yeah, well. Sorry for taking so long to figure it out.”

“Seriously. And you call _me_ slow,” you joke, feeling a bit more comfortable as you fall back into your usual dynamic.

“That’s ‘cause you are,” he half-smirks, poking you in the side. You jump slightly and swat his hand away from you, and he laughs.

You try to look indignant, but you just can’t do it. You don’t even care that there’s probably people watching you right now, you’re just too damn happy to give anyone else a thought. So you laugh as well and poke him back, which only makes him laugh more.

“Wanna grab some dinner?” he asks when the laughter dies down, offering a hand.

You nod and slide your hand in his. “Only if you’re payin’,” you tease as you head towards the building.

“We’re on a meal plan dumbass, neither one of us is paying,” he scoffs, elbowing you lightly in the side, even as a big grin spreads across his face.

The two of you bicker the whole way in, your hands still intertwined.


End file.
